


Try It On For Size

by Azzandra



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Clothing Kink, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Sartorial Smut, kink meme fill, snarky foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzandra/pseuds/Azzandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for a kink meme prompt: F!Trevelyan gets Solas to try on the Robes of the High Keeper, gets hot and bothered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Try It On For Size

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this prompt right here](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14317.html?thread=54025709#t54025709). 
> 
> For reference, Robes of the High Keeper [look like this](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Robes_of_the_High_Keeper).

Evelyn wiggled a finger through the hole. It was large enough to fit her entire hand easily, but that made her point well enough.  
  
"Well, you're not wearing this again," she said.  
  
"Perhaps it can still be mended," Solas said, taking the coat and raising it to the light. This only made it obvious that the garment was more hole than material. The parts of it that weren't torn were burnt. "Ah, perhaps not," he conceded.   
  
"I'll get you a new set of armor before we go out next time," Evelyn said. "But I'll have to insist you not offer to be a Varghest's dinner again."  
  
"It is hardly my fault I am so appetizing," he replied.  
  
Evelyn stalled for a second, unsure if this was innuendo or not. With Solas, it could go either way.  
  
"I suppose I can't blame any creature for preferring to take its chances with a spindly elf rather than Cassandra," she replied instead.   
  
"Spindly," Solas repeated in a deadpan.  
  
"But delicious," Evelyn replied primly. Now  _he_  was left wondering if that was innuendo.  
  
Well, this was just getting silly. She certainly wasn't making light of this situation when Solas was drenched in blood and half-limping away from an angry Varghest. It was a relief that his injuries seemed worse than they were. Now that he was fully healed, they had room to joke.  
  
"Stop by my quarters tonight, I'll make sure to have something for you by then," she promised, as she opened a chest and began browsing the material selection.  
  
"As you wish," he conceded. He glanced around the Undercroft, empty of everyone save for them, and kissed her cheek before departing.  
  
She waved him off with a smile. Her mind was already on the task at hand. Didn't she bring back something a few trips ago? Surely it hadn't been thrown out...

* * *

 

Evelyn's head was pounding as she made her way through reports. Since her return from the Western Approach, she'd barely made a dent in the large stack. She was half-tempted to just abandon the task altogether.  
  
When she heard the outer door to her quarters open, she nearly feared Josephine was coming to foist yet more paperwork on her. When she heard the inner door close, she grew curious, because she always kept that one open to signal she was available for whoever wanted to drop in.  
  
Solas made his way up the stairs and into the room, and Evelyn felt a smile come over her face at the mere sight of him.  
  
"I believe you had something for me?" he asked, as he walked towards her desk.  
  
"Sure I do," she said under her breath, before remembering in a flash why he was there. "Oh! Yes, I do, actually."  
  
He seemed almost disappointed that her request hadn't been a ploy to get him to her quarters; as a matter of fact, it had been just that, partially, but she really did need to give him his new armor.  
  
When she placed the robes in his hands, he was disbelieving.  
  
"I know it's not your usual style," Evelyn began apologetically.  
  
"Or lack thereof, if Dorian and Vivienne are to be believed," he muttered.  
  
"I always thought wolf pelts suited you," Evelyn said. "But until you get a new set of armor tailored and enchanted, you need to have something in reserve. Try these on, please. Or you're going naked on our next outing."  
  
"I may not have armor, but I do still own  _clothes_ ," he protested, amused.  
  
"Naked," Evelyn repeated with finality. Solas chuckled, but did not argue further.  
  
He went into the small adjacent room to change, curiously modest considering Evelyn had seen him in various stages of undress before. She returned to her stack of report, skimming the ones that looked more important. She didn't raise her head again until she heard him pointedly clearing his throat.  
  
Her breath caught at the sight of him in the Keeper's robes. What his usual attire hid, these robes flattered: the elegant lines of his body, the regal length of his neck, the slash of bare skin visible through the open shirt--accentuated by the enchanted pendant which came with the robes.  
  
She rose slowly from her seat, coming around her desk. She couldn't quite take her eyes off him.  
  
"Yes, that's very... it's... you look, it's... it fits... it... the fit looks good," she stammered.  
  
He grinned at her. An unabashed, completely  _devious_  grin.  
  
"They do seem adequately protective," he said, clasping his hands behind his back in a way that drew attention to his chest and shoulders. "What do you think?"  
  
Evelyn pressed a hand to her heated cheek. No, absolutely not, she was not losing her wits over an admittedly well-tailored set of robes.  
  
"You look..." She searched for the right words, and came up with, "very nice." Not the most brilliant observation, but at least she was working her way back up to basic coherency.  
  
He traced the open shirt front with a thoughtful hum, his fingers skimming just short of skin.  
  
"The material is quite pleasant to the touch, as well." His eyes sparked with mischief as he looked at her. "Would you like to see for yourself?"  
  
"Oh, I don't... really..."  
  
Before she could respond, he walked up to her, and stopped with barely half a step between them, close enough that she could feel his body heat. Her hand came up of its own accord and traced the material of his robes. It was silky to the touch, colorful, and it caught the light beautifully. From there, her fingers strayed to the leather sash at his waist, and finally came to rest over the belt holding the robes closed.  
  
"I find myself warming to this set of armor considerably," Solas said, and the comment made Evelyn's gaze return to the open shirt.  
  
"Mm. Better take it off before you overheat, then," she murmured, eyes half-lidded as she watched the slight sway of the pendant of his chest.  
  
He laughed, the sound spilling from his throat deep and rich.  
  
"I don't think I am the one in danger of overheating," he said, before taking her hand from his belt and placing a kiss to her palm.   
  
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she retorted, tilting her chin up stubbornly.  
  
"Of course not,  _vhenan_ ," he said.

He pulled her closer, lowering his head to place an open-mouthed kiss against her throat, right on the sensitive spot right under her jaw where he could feel the flutter of her pulse. She was pliant in his arms, unprotesting as he pushed her back a step, the back of her thighs pushing against the edge of the desk. When he sucked on the heated skin, she moaned, tension slowly seeping out of her shoulders.  
  
Her hands found his waist, and flitted over the material of the robes, feeling the way they hugged his body and revealed everything his usual, modest clothing concealed. He even moved differently, holding himself straighter, with poise she'd known he possessed but usually kept hidden.  
  
His leg found its way between hers, and he gripped her hip firmly as he pushed his upper thigh against her core. She whimpered--there was only a moment of blissful satisfaction before it was snatched away from her, and it left her burning for more.  
  
She couldn't be alone in this, and sure enough, palming him roughly through the trousers, she found him hard. The material was thick enough that he couldn't be getting much sensation, but he hissed out a slow breath, closer to a soundless growl.  
  
"Do you need help finding your way out of your robes, Solas?" she asked innocently.  
  
He gave her a sharp smile--he was not yet so far gone that she could play him with a touch.  
  
"Not at all," he replied. "I find them quite comfortable. As a matter of fact, I might never take them off again."  
  
"Now that would just be impractical." Especially for what she had in mind at the moment.  
  
"On the contrary," he purred, "you will find that I am still very capable of accomplishing anything I put my mind to."  
  
To demonstrate, his hand slipped under the hem of her tunic, and his thumb hooked into the waistband of her trousers, teasing the skin over her hipbone. Evelyn gave a shuddering sigh.  
  
She only needed to lean forward slightly to press her mouth against his, and he met her halfway. They kissed hotly; in contrast, with measured movements, Solas began opening the toggles of her tunic, starting from the lowest and working his way upwards with agonizing slowness.  
  
Evelyn took advantage of the situation to slip her hand through his open shirt, touching that tempting strip of skin on display. Her fingers tangled in the thin chains of the pendant at first, but she managed to get her palm flat against his chest, rubbing in slow circles, in the same rhythm that she pressed herself down on his leg.  
  
When all the toggles were popped open and he finally cupped a breast, she broke off from the kiss to gasp. She gulped for air, aware of how it made her breasts heave, spill more readily into his hand. In retaliation, she twisted her own hand under his shirt just so, and felt her fingers brush against a nipple. He moaned.  
  
They were all hands after that, touching each other, pressing into each other's flesh, and for every second that passed, Evelyn became more and more taken with the possibility of rutting against each other fully clothed until they both finished. The fact that they didn't was only because Solas stepped back.  
  
She mewled in frustration, a sound she'd be embarrassed about if her mind had been less clouded by lust.  
  
He hushed her, disentangled himself from her grasp and walked to the sofa, even though the bed was closer. She didn't think to wonder why until he sat himself down on the sofa, one arm thrown over the backrest, and unlaced his trousers. The sight of his cock freed, standing stiff and ready for her, made Evelyn moan and rip at her clothing.   
  
She stumbled towards him, losing first her boots, and then casting off her trousers. When she finally reached him, she threw her smallclothes aside and gave his fully clothed state a questioning look.  
  
"No,  _vhenan_ , we wouldn't want to get this lovely set of clothing you gave me rumpled," he said, his voice full of humor even though he was breathless. "Not often does a 'spindly elf' such as myself get to wear such marvelous attire."  
  
Then he sat back, both his arms laid over the backrest of the sofa, and he tilted his head at her expectantly.

Evelyn huffed. She knew she'd be paying for that remark sooner or later. But without breaking eye contact, she settled over his lap, knees on either side of his thighs.  
  
He kept still, feigning indifference as she grasped his cock and pumped it once, but his eyes were intense, burning with impatience.  
  
She guided him into her, sinking down slowly until his entire length was inside her. She moaned satisfaction at the sensation, the perfect way he filled her, almost too much. Once she adjusted, she began moving, slowly at first, finding her rhythm.  
  
Their gazes remained locked the entire time, one of his hands coming to curl over her hip, her fists clenching the fabric of his robes. She rode him with deliberate, fluid motions, dragging out the pleasure.  
  
She wasn't sure how long she kept it up--her mind floated as her perceptions narrowed to only Solas and the heat between her legs. Her brow broke out in sweat at some point, though, because when he brushed her hair out of her eyes, locks of it stuck to her forehead. She clenched on him unexpectedly, only just noticing that her orgasm had been building, and he groaned and began meeting her with his own thrusts. It was just as well; her thighs were aching with exhaustion.  
  
Their rhythm became ragged after that, frantic as they moved against each other. She clawed at his robes, breaking off the thin chain of the pendant, gripping fistfuls of material. Solas held her hips as he thrust, grunting with the effort, never once breaking eye contact. When he was near, she saw it, and it sent her peaking, sobbing with every wave of pleasure that broke.  
  
He thrust into her once more, twice, three times, and he was done as well.  
  
He slumped back on the sofa, limp with exhaustion. She was in no better condition and fell against him, too tired to do anything else. He held her as their breathing evened out.  
  
When she finally felt she'd regained control over her knees, she sat up, letting his softened cock slip out of her and almost immediately regretting the absence.  
  
"It appears," Solas remarked, gesturing to the now rumpled and stained robes, "that these are not fit to wear in public anymore."  
  
The bastard. He'd probably planned it this way from the start. If she'd been any less sated, she would have probably called him out on it.  
  
As it were, she merely laughed, and kissed him for his cleverness.


End file.
